Once Will Do (Musicals)
by stagepageandscreen
Summary: He holds her close, so close, and a burst of warmth floods her slowing heart. She tangles a gentle hand in his hair and pulls his lips down to hers. She can taste the salt of his tears. She releases him, in every single way, and smiles gently as her vision blurs around the edges. "You know, monsieur, I do believe I was a little in love with you..."


**Disclaimer: I'm not Victor Hugo**

**A/N Just a little something I found kicking around on my computer. It's already in the book section, but I thought I might as well post it here too. I hope to do a better Eponine fic, but am rather busy with work and my other fic 'A Different Version of Events". Enjoy! **

**Once Will Do**

Her face stung, her bruised ribs throbbed, and her broken heart ached. _'And now I'm all alone again, nowhere to go, no one to turn to.' _Eponine thought as she crept down a quiet street in the slums of St Michel.

_So what else is new 'Ponine?_

She had no home, not after she had defied her father. Her scream had scared off her father's gang, but had not spared her from a hasty but brutal beating. He had been so angry; they all had, in fact she was lucky to still have her life.

'_Maybe it would have been better if they had killed me' _

What was there to live for anymore? She had lost Marius, the one bright spot in her cold and dark life, lost him to the beauty and light of Cosette.

_But he was never yours to lose remember?_

Cosette's letter that she had taken from the gate, pressed against her skin to keep dry, burned against her side and she tried not to think about it.

The street was empty, there was not a single face for her to say hello to. She paused under a leaky awning and gave a sad smile. The city had all gone to bed, a light rain fell, and for just a few minutes she could lose herself inside head, imagining that this hell she was living was the dream and not the other way around.

"On my own, pretending he's beside me," she sang softly, holding out her hand as if someone (Marius) was stood next to her. "All alone, I walk with him till morning. Without him, I feel his arms around me," she wrapped her thin arms around her equally thin frame, wishing that it was Marius, wishing she was not so alone. "And when I lose my way I close my eyes… and he has found me. In the rain, the pavement shines like silver. All the lights are misty in the river. In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight, and all I see is him and me, forever and forever." She smiled, seeing the phantom version of Marius that she carried everywhere with her dancing in the reflections of the puddles. She wrapped her arms tighter about herself and twirled in a burst of joy. Suddenly, she felt the letter again, the paper crisp against her skin. Her arms dropped and she felt her heart break all over again, felt every ache and pain of her battered body all in one hellish wave.

"And I know it's only in my mind." Her voice was low, and full of pain. "That I'm talking to myself…and not to him." The phantoms of Marius disappeared and only the rain was left. "And although I know that he is blind… still I say," her voice nearly broke, "there's a way for us."

Everything suddenly made sense. Perfect heart breaking sense. "I love him, but when the night is over, he is gone. The river is just a river. Without _him_ the world around me changes. The trees are bear and everywhere the streets are full of strangers." She remembers how only a few days ago he had walked with her and laughed, talking with her about everything and nothing and the heartbreak was nearly too much to bear. She stumbled into an alleyway and leant against one of the rotting wooden pillars. If only he would hold her, even if it was only once.

"I love him, but every day I'm learning that all my life, I've only been pretending." A sob caught in her throat. "Without me, _his _world will go on turning." She voice shook and she wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to contain the sorrow that she felt. "A world that's full of happiness that I have never known." She finally broke, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed into her filthy skirt. "I love him." she cried, then again, softer, "I love him." Her heart repaired the shell she had built around it, only her love for Marius remaining inside. She struggled to her feet. "I _love _him…but only on my own."

She leant against the wall of the café, her skinny frame bulked out by a set of men's clothes that she had…borrowed. Everything was going so well for the students. At Lamarque's funeral the people had sung with them, their heart full of passion and hatred against the government. Enjolras' had lit the flame. She had watched Marius. Sadness was clear on his features along with anger. She felt a little bad for not giving him the letter, but why should she? The Revolution was far for important than some bourgeois blond with more money than sense.

_Or is it that you want him with you when you die? _A little voice had whispered.

'_Of course not! We aren't going to die, the people will rise!' _she had argued.

'_Don't be ridiculous,' _it had snapped back, _'you would just rather he died with you than lived with Cosette. That he would finally look at you the same way you look at him, even if just for a second.' _

She couldn't answer that.

She had built the barricade with them, cutting her hands and nearly getting crushed by furniture flying from the windows, but she had never felt more alive. She kept glimpsing Marius, but kept her head down. If he saw her too soon he would try to send her away. Her disguise must be better than she had thought; Marius had barely even glanced at her.

'_What else is new?' _the cruel little voice had whispered.

Then the attack had started, and Eponine wondered what she had set herself up for. Did she really want to die with Marius? He had never looked before, why would he look now?

'_Better to die for something worthwhile than alone in the gutter,' _she reasoned. She fired her pistol through the gaps in the barricade, firing blind. Then Marius was there, scrambling up the barricade, a small barrel of powder in one hand, a blazing torch in the other. Without a thought she followed him. Wherever he went in this hell, she would go too.

Then everything seemed to slow down. She saw the soldiers reach the top of the barricade, their weapons gleaming dully in the firelight. She saw Marius looking down, trying to find another handhold, not knowing that he was seconds from deaath. She saw the soldier train his gun downwards, the muzzle aligning with the crown of Marius' head.

_I can't let him die_

Before the thought was finished, Eponine was moving with catlike agility up the unstable structure. She stretched out her hand, whispering "No," but it must have emerged as a shout because the soldier turned to look at her. Her fingers grasped the warm metal of the barrel and she _pulled _with all her might.

Fire, smoke, a loud bang… pain.

Then the soldiers were gone and she was at the bottom of the barricade, a dull throb in her side. As if of their own accord, her fingers reached for the letter, pulling it out from next to her skin. The corner was a little dirtied, the paper a deep red. Her vision blurred, but she sees Marius (he's alive!) and then he had seen her and she reaching out to him.

"'Ponine, what are you doing here?" His eyes jump to the letter, and the hope she sees in his face hurts her far more than the bullet in her belly.

"I kept it from you. It's from Cosette."

His eyes flash in confusion, then understanding, and finally disbelief. He takes the letter.

"I'm sorry." It comes out as little more than a whimper although she was trying to sound sincere, because she is. She wanted to die, had died a little bit every time she saw him and he looked through her. But he had so much he could do, so much! And if he needed Cosette to do that, then who was she to deny her to him?

She's amazed she can think this clearly, the pain in her side is now agonizing.

His sharp eyes see her discomfort. "What have you done?" he asks, as if he doesn't want to know the answer.

Then all at once he is there, holding her close, keeping her safe from the fear that tries to snare her. She studies his face, remembering every tiny detail. The pain has reduced again to a dull throb.

He holds her close, so close, and a burst of warmth floods her slowing heart. She tangles a gentle hand in his hair and pulls his lips down to hers. She can taste the salt of his tears.

She releases him, in every single way, and smiles gently as her vision blurs around the edges.

"You know, monsieur, I do believe I was a little in love with you..."

He had held her once, and once would do.


End file.
